


Night West

by DeathMeetsLife



Series: The Red String That Binds [2]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Chapter 686 fix-it, Depression, F/M, Family Feels, Fix-It, Gen, IRBB 2017 continuation, Ichigo has dug himself into a hole but GOSH DARN IT HE'S GONNA TRY TO DIG HIMSELF BACK OUT, Kinda, University, baby antics, implied background Toushiro/Karin, never really works, onesided IH, which as you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-25 01:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16651690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathMeetsLife/pseuds/DeathMeetsLife
Summary: Ichigo knew that he had just begun the most difficult part of his life, made even more so with his lover and daughter so utterly out of reach. Between university, work, and some spiritual extracurriculars, he didn’t even have time to find some sleep, much less figure out this fatherhood thing. Still, his universe had shifted to revolve around the new star at its center: his son, and the only piece of Rukia he had left.-Ichigo was more than thankful that the semester was finally coming to a close; the intense coursework and long nights frequently had his tired eyes playing tricks on him, some crueler than others.He watched the light from the street lamps pool in circles on concrete but quickly closed his eyes to stop himself from searching for a small figure tucked in the shadows. It wasn’t her. It was never her.





	Night West

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! Welcome to the long-awaited sequel to _another day, another destiny_. Thank y'all so much for your patience, and please enjoy the next chapter in this fix-it series! Please see the end for more news!

The first year is the hardest, he thinks. Everything he has read tells him so, at least. _It has to get worse before it gets better._ But he doesn’t know if it’ll ever get better. Not really. Not like this. 

* * *

Ichigo sighed against the bus window, more than a little weary after a long day of stacked classes. His breath fogged the glass, and he absently puffed out a few more breaths to watch the fog grow and recede, grow and fade. On the cusp of spring, the days were comfortable while the nights had dropped down to almost freezing, reminding Karakura of the grasp winter still held on the city. Ichigo slumped into his seat and tucked his nose into his scarf.

His first university semester had been as average as it could have been – disregarding, of course, his weekly secret rendezvous in Soul Society. Two classes Monday-Wednesday-Friday, three Tuesday-Thursday, and weekends were spent either helping the girls at the clinic, going drinking with his new classmates, or not-so-quietly rolling around in Rukia’s sheets. His second semester, however, had been built around the newest (best) part of his life, and he felt dead on his feet more often than not. Ichigo was more than thankful that the semester was finally coming to a close; the intense coursework and long nights frequently had his tired eyes playing tricks on him, some crueler than others.

He watched the light from the street lamps pool in circles on concrete but quickly closed his eyes to stop himself from searching for a small figure tucked in the shadows. It wasn’t her. It was never her.

Ichigo got off at his stop with a familiar nod of gratitude to the driver and started on the short trudge down the street to home. A breeze blew cold against his neck, and he hiked his scarf up higher for the remainder of the walk, his eyes on the prize: the yellow light outside the clinic, promising a warm reception and possibly some ready-to-be-reheated leftovers.

True to form, as he stepped in the door and began to shed his outer layers, Karin appeared in the entry hall with a giggly baby in her hold. "Look, Kazui-chan, Dad's home!"

As Kazui's big brown eyes caught his own, Ichigo felt his exhaustion, which had almost seemed to be draped over him like a heavy coat, slide from his shoulders to pool at his feet. He smiled at his son's delighted squeal and took him from Karin's arms to press a kiss firmly into his chubby cheek.

Six months had simultaneously passed in both a flash and a slow, agonizing crawl. While the pain of being separated from his lover and daughter seemed determined to draw out each and every second, it was almost as if Kazui grew every time Ichigo blinked. No longer was he the tiny being struggling to pass each labored breath; at six months old, he was a bright, rambunctious infant with more energy than all of his caretakers combined, much to their frazzled amusement.

Ichigo nuzzled against his son's baby-soft cheek, inhaling his sweet scent and pressing a raspberry into his skin. Kazui hiccuped with laughter, and Ichigo felt rejuvenated with the sound. "Was he good, today?" Kazui squirmed happily in his grasp, and he brought a hand up to tickle him on his neck. More bubbly giggles spilled from the baby, his warm chocolate eyes squeezed near shut, and the world brightened a bit more.

The teenager shrugged and pet her nephew absently. "I'm guessing so – at least, he was after we got home. Dad's passed out on the couch, though, so I'm guessing it was the normal lunchtime rodeo." She took a step back next to the dining table and glanced up. “...yup, there’s a spot of mashed up something stuck to the ceiling. It’s orange?”

Ichigo sighed and glanced at the clock. _8:47_ stared back, somehow accusing in nature. "I wish my day finished sooner. I don't like the idea that you girls are rushing home instead of getting involved at school."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Karin waved off. "They have club time structured into the week, and I just make the soccer team meet over the weekend instead of after school. It gives us a better scrimmage schedule, anyway. As far as Yuzu goes, she enjoys taking care of this little monster," she reached up and tickled the baby's exposed tummy for a bubbling giggle, "far more than some home-ec group. Like I guess it’s like, Applied Home-Ec? She’s really becoming quite the baby food master chef. Whatever’s stuck up there is probably one of her concoctions."

"Speaking of...?" Ichigo spared a glance around for his missing sister, who was usually putting around being useful and making everyone else look bad. Her twin shook her head.

"Grocery run, and then I think she's stopping by Urahara's on the way back." Karin huffed out a breath and ran a hand through her hair, a suddenly weary look passing over her face. "Well, I gotta hit that homework. I’ve got some paper or another to finish by tomorrow. Enjoy babytime." She gave Kazui’s toe one last playful pinch and trudged her way upstairs, reluctantly resigned to the assignments that awaited her.

"Always," Ichigo murmured into Kazui's hair, stroking through the feathery strands. He pressed a kiss to his soft crown. He knew he only had a little while with his son before it was baby bedtime. "What do you say we rouse that lazy grandpa, hmm?"

Kazui babbled in presumed agreement.

True to form, his father was sprawled across the family sofa and snoring up a storm. Ichigo frowned at the sight; he knew his father was being run just as ragged as he was, but Isshin always went on and on about making "precious memories” with his grandbaby and refused to admit that their timeshare arrangement was unsustainable. His ever-present stubble was threatening to go full-beard, and the skin under his eyes was looking almost as purple as Ichigo’s.

He jostled the couch with his foot. “Hey, Old Man, up and at ‘em.” When his father showed no signs of waking, Ichigo adjusted his grip on Kazui and cupped his hand around his mouth. “Oh, no,” he yelled, entirely unconvincing in his performance, “the baby is on fire! Wherever could his grandpa be?”

“Grandpa is here, precious Kazui!” Isshin groggily exclaimed. He came out of his slumber with his hands already outstretched and grasping at air, his gaze still unfocused. Kazui cooed, and Isshin blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He met Ichigo’s unimpressed expression with a pout. “That is a cruel way to wake up a loving grandpa. What if it was true?”

Ichigo rolled his eyes. “Then I would hope you knew where the fire extinguisher was.” Isshin opened his mouth to reply, then paused, and shut it again in bafflement. “Under the sink. Where it has been probably my entire life.”

Isshin pushed himself upright with a groan. The pops that came from his joints had Ichigo wincing in sympathy. “So it is, so it is. When did you get home, son?” He managed to ask through a yawn while surreptitiously checking the time on his watch.

“Just now. How long have you been sleeping?”

“Oh, just a little while. This little one’s dinner was surprisingly eventful.”

“So the food on the ceiling was from dinner, not lunch, then.” Kazui began to wriggle to get down, but Ichigo wasn’t ready to let go just yet, so he bounced him softly on his hip.

“What color was it?”

Ichigo thought back to Karin’s assessment. “Orange.”

His father nodded sagely, peering up at his grandson. “Yes, that was lunch. We had puréed peas for dinner, didn’t we, Kazui? Very yummy, right?”

Kazui looked back at him, seeming distinctly put out by the question. “Aboo.”

“Well, maybe we would have had more pumpkin if _some_ one hadn’t wasted a jar redecorating the dining room!”

“Doo a ba,” was the stern reply.

“No, you’re right, that one’s on me.”

Ichigo heaved a sigh. “Dad, I thought we agreed that we’d figure out something else if this became too much for you.”

“It hasn’t become too much for me,” came Isshin’s quick protest.

“You are having a conversation with a six-month old.”

“Conversation is highly important to his language development! I did the exact same thing with you and the girls!”

“Dad, I’m serious.” Ichigo sat next to him on the couch and set Kazui free on the floor. The baby did a few push-ups before crawling off to excitedly explore life under the coffee table. “If this is just too much on your plate, I can switch to weekend-only classes, or even suspend school altogether. I can pick up handyman work again to help out with things, and then I’ll just start it up again after Kazui is older, at preschool, maybe.”

Isshin was shaking his head before Ichigo was even finished. “No, we talked about this. It will be better for you and Kazui in the future for you to finish your studies now, even if it seems like more trouble. You’re far from putting me out, son. If I could handle juggling my job and you and your sisters alone, I can manage part time work and my precious grandchild.” Isshin looked to where Kazui was mouthing at a cork coaster and seamlessly switched it out with a teething ring. Kazui didn’t mind, as long as he had something to gum at. “You put too much responsibility on yourself, Ichigo, you always have. It’s time you learned to let others support you.” Ichigo put his face in his hands and nodded in defeat. His dad clapped him on the back with a firm hand, almost putting him on the floor next to his son. “Now brighten up while I tell you all the wonderful things our Kazui did today! First, we went on a walk down the street to that park, and that gray tabby cat – you know the one that’s always stealing treats from Saitou down by the grocery – got a little curious about what was in the stroller…”

Absently, Ichigo registered the front door opening and Yuzu calling her greetings as she moved into the kitchen. He settled into his seat, determined not to miss a moment of his son’s life, even if he couldn’t be there in person. It was, after all, more than he could say for his daughter. 

* * *

The day was warm and clear, with no warning other than the hell butterfly that morning to announce the impending arrival of the captain. His stop-ins were far from a rarity; Byakuya and the Sixth had taken over the responsibility of monitoring Karakura and its unusually large spiritually sensitive population, ensuring any future visits could be made under the pretense of a captain going about official business. Ichigo both looked forward to and dreaded the soft sound of those little black wings and the formally worded messages they carried.

That day, like each time before, Byakuya arrived in the early afternoon, as if he could sense when Kazui would wake up from his midday nap. His gigai was dressed in the well-tailored three-piece suit that Ichigo had come to expect – Byakuya was, after all, the esteemed and respectable head of the Kuchiki noble clan – and he held a gift box under his arm.

Kazui was always on his best behavior on these visits, all smiles and no tantrums. Ichigo sometimes wondered if his son was trying to impress his noble uncle with his demeanor. They had set up comfortably in the living room, sipping on tea and exchanging small talk. Kazui had taken to presenting every single one of his toys to his uncle, crawling back and forth to build a small pile by his uncle’s feet and sternly announcing the arrival of each new addition. Once Kazui had deemed the pile complete, Byakuya produced a new toy from the box with a flourish, and the baby squealed with delight and accepted it.

Ichigo had to hide his small grin behind his mug, biting his lip to keep himself from commenting on how much the captain spoiled his nephew.

Once the chitchat dwindled, a tense silence stretched between the two men. The younger cleared his throat, not that it helped much. “How are they?” Ichigo finally prompted, anxiety choking his voice.

Byakuya’s frame became more rigid. The younger man could discern his hesitation and swallowed around the lump caught in his throat. After some internal debate, the nobleman faced him fully. Ichigo already knew what words would follow.

“Rukia and Renji were married last week.”

Ichigo closed his eyes against the pain as his heart seized in his chest.

“The family elders insisted,” the captain continued with a beleaguered sigh. “In their eyes, it was scandalous enough that Ichika was born out of wedlock, but that they would continue their perceived arrangement without commitment threatened the family’s _reputation_ ,” Byakuya spat the word as if it were poison on his tongue. He eyed Ichigo’s too still form, knowing the anguish the young man forced down and attempted none-too-successfully to mask. “The ceremony went as mandated, and he was entered into the family record. The license, however, has yet to be filed.” Byakuya smirked at the idea, his own small rebellion against the family’s stranglehold. “It’s quite easy for such a document to go missing in the amount of paperwork that passes through a captain’s office.”

“Thank you,” Ichigo managed. “It’s safer for them this way, anyway.” He opened his eyes to gaze at his son as he rolled around on the floor. “How… did she look?”

The sun shone brightly through the window, but the younger man couldn’t feel its warmth on his skin. The shinigami next to him smiled sadly. “Perfect.”

Byakuya thought of his sister in traditional white, expertly applied makeup covering her tear-swollen eyes and splotchy cheeks. To anyone who had not held her as she had raged and screamed the night before, she looked to be the exquisite, demure bride. Byakuya knew that if circumstances had been different, if a different groom had been awaiting her, her subdued expression would have been radiant with excitement, joy close to bursting from her skin.

For what must have been the hundredth time, he pushed that thought away.

Ichigo mirrored his expression and wiped an unsteady palm across his mouth. “Of course she did.” He cleared his throat again. “Has she started work, again? I can’t picture her staying at home this long.”

“Yes,” the captain relaxed a bit at the change in topic, “she’s resumed her duties on a provisional basis. With Ukitake gone, her presence is vital for the continued functionality of the Thirteenth.” Ichigo nodded. Byakuya reached down and lifted his nephew into his arms. He smoothed a thumb over his ear as Kazui pulled a handful of his long tresses into his mouth. Byakuya carefully removed his hair from the child’s grasp and replaced it another new toy he produced from seemingly nowhere. Kazui babbled in delight and took it, admiring it before looking down at his collection on the floor, undoubtedly seeing how it compared. “She brings Ichika to the office on a harness -- it doesn’t seem to be a problem, so far.”

The young man cracked a small grin, and he imagined her commanding her division in all seriousness as Ichika blew bubbles on her front. “I guess the whole division is sort of like a babysitting service.”

“I suppose.” Byakuya trailed an ignored hand through Kazui’s growing ginger mane. “Interestingly enough, members of the Eleventh seem to occupy that position more often than not.”

That news startled an unexpected low laugh from Ichigo. “Now that’s an image!” Though, when he thought about it, the Eleventh had plenty of childrearing experience thanks to their own pink-haired menace.   

The sun began to set, and Ichigo regretfully reminded Byakuya of his impending class time. The nobleman nodded and rose, Kazui still in his grasp as they headed toward the door. Yuzu accepted Kazui and Byakuya’s thanks for the tea service as they passed the kitchen, and Ichigo saw him off before putting on his shoes, grabbing his backpack and doing the same.

That evening’s classes passed in a haze, as was usually the case following Byakuya’s visits. Fortunately, all of the teachers appeared to be setting up reviews before the upcoming finals. Ichigo’s mind was a world away, with a certain short shinigami and Ichika and the Thirteenth and all the others who had been roped in – willingly or otherwise – to take care of his daughter. The thought of Kenpachi walking around with a baby carrier strapped to his chest almost got him kicked out of class as he tried, and failed, to suppress his chuckles.

While the reality of his and his family’s situation was a somber thought, he was more than glad that she at least had the support of their friends and her division to try and find balance. He was still working on finding that. In fact, he was still _working_ on working on finding that. It seemed like such a far away, unachievable dream, but when Ichigo looked back on how his father had raised him and his sisters – albeit, sometimes with questionable parenting methods, but something he was growing to appreciate more and more – he knew he would figure it out one day.

The final class wrapped up, and Ichigo waved off offers to go drinking from well-meaning classmates to begin the trek back home. They let him go with promises to drag him out after the exams, promises Ichigo knew, with his schedule, weren’t at all possible, before heading down the street to the closest bar. He looked after them and, for a moment, missed it – the friendly teasing, the shoulder jostling, the bursts of laughter. His bus turned the corner, and he hurried to the stop to flag it down.

He greeted the driver, an older woman who had driven him home almost every night since October, and fell into his usual seat against the glass. He let the low rumble of the engine relax him as the day’s exhaustion settled into his bones.

“Kurosaki-kun?”

Ichigo blinked open his eyes, startled out of his doze. Apparently, he had passed out nearly as soon as his butt had hit the seat. A quick glance outside his window confirmed that he hadn’t slept past his stop.

“It _is_ you! I thought so!” Standing in the aisle was Inoue Orihime, excusing herself from a gaggle of other women. She looked as she always had, chipper to a fault, as she took the seat next to him. Ichigo sat up straight and blinked to clear his drowsiness. “It’s been too long! I didn’t see you at Tatsuki-chan’s birthday last month.”

“Ah,” Ichigo thought back to the night in question, “Kazui had colic. I had to stay home.” He hadn’t had to – his father had assured him that he could look after him, _I am a doctor, after all, Ichigo,_ but it had seemed unfathomable to go out and have fun while his son screamed himself hoarse from pain. Instead, he had spent the majority of the night pacing the hallways with his son, rubbing soothing circles into his back as Kazui had cried into his shoulder. “I took her out to lunch a couple of days later.”

“Oh no! I hope he’s feeling better, now.” The words sounded rehearsed, the proper way to respond to his son’s illness, but he knew his friend was sincere. While they would have been lip service from anyone else, Inoue didn’t have a facetious bone in her body. Earnestness seemingly poured off of her.

“He is,” Ichigo smiled slightly, “thankfully.”

“Do you have any recent pictures?”

“Oh, yeah, here.” Ichigo pulled out his phone and brought up the folder in question. “They’re all there.” She snatched his phone with a sound of glee.

“Oh my god! He looks just like you!” She gushed, clicking through the picture gallery. Ichigo hummed noncommittedly in reply – Kazui may have inherited his coloring, but Ichigo saw his mother every day in the shape of his eyes, the slope of his nose, and the bow of his lips. “He’s so cute. How old is he, now?”

“A little under six months.”

“Time flies so fast! I remember when he was so tiny, but just looking at him now! Adorable,” she murmured down at the phone. As she continued to scroll through the photos, Ichigo looked out the window again. Two more stops until he gets off, maybe. He wasn’t asleep for too long. “Who has him now?”

Ichigo barely swallowed a yawn before replying. “Dad. He’s moved his schedule so that he takes Mondays and Thursdays off, so he can watch Kazui while I’m in class. Then I take night classes on the weekends, thus,” he gestured to them presently. Inoue frowned, worry pretty on her brow.

“That sounds…”

“Exhausting? Yeah. But it’s the only way I can go to school.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Was that a new wrinkle he felt? Probably. “I’ve slept so little that this semester has felt like one long lesson in sleep deprivation.” Ichigo looked over to the picture currently on the screen. “Oh, forget you saw this one.” He reached to pull the phone out of her grasp, but she leaned away from him, practically into the aisle.

“Why? It’s so cute! Does Captain Kuchiki visit often?” He poked her in the side, and she squeaked. He made another grab for his prize.

“Not officially,” he grunted as he reclaimed his phone. “You’ve lost baby picture privileges.”

“Nuh-uh, Kurosaki-kun! You’ve deprived me so long! I deserve some sweet baby pics,” she pouted. Ichigo chuckled in response; as tired as he was, it was nice to see one of his friends again. Between his classes and Ishida's, he hadn’t seen his cousin in a while, and, last he had heard, Chad was doing a backpacking journey across... India, maybe? He didn't even know what the girl in front of him had been doing for the past year.

“Are you coming back from class?” He asked, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “I haven’t heard much about what you’ve been up to since graduation.”

“Oh,” Inoue’s enthusiasm markedly dimmed, and she appeared to wilt under the question. “No, I’m not taking classes at the moment. I was travelling abroad for a while – which was great! There’s still so much I still want to do! – but then I ran into some financial difficulties, so it’s just not in my future right now.”

Ichigo frowned. Up until the end of high school, despite all of their absences, Inoue had maintained her position at the top of their class. “Inoue…”

She straightened suddenly, and Ichigo jumped in his seat. She brought up her fist in a determined gesture. “But it’s all right! I am working and saving up, and then I can pursue my dream! Or dreams! I have a lot of things I want to do, you know,” she concluded with a soft smile. Ichigo returned it.

“I bet.”

“And you, Kurosaki-kun? What are you studying?”

“Oh, uh, medicine, I guess. Help Dad around the clinic, so we can switch off between who’s working and who’s watching Kazui. The girls are helping right now, but mostly I take care of him during the day, and Dad closes early on the days I have classes in the evening.”

Inoue pulled a hand through her auburn hair, twisting it over her shoulder. “Medicine? That doesn’t really sound like you.” Absently she began weaving it into a braid. “You were always more of a literature person, weren’t you?”

Ichigo shrugged. “It is what it is.” He crossed his arms across his chest. “Can’t do much to change the situation.” _Would that I could, though._ In his idealized future, he would be tucking the twins into the same crib, or helping in the Thirteenth, or any number of things that would mean that he was still in Soul Society with his daughter and the love of his life.

“Maybe I could help?”

Her question broke into his darkening thoughts. “What?”

“I don’t work on Tuesdays and Thursdays – I just can’t find something to fill that time! I could babysit for you!”

“Uh huh. Do you even know the first thing about childcare?” Ichigo asked dubiously.

“No shaking?” She teased with a grin. That startled a laugh out of him, but he tried to remain serious.

“Well, yes, but I mean, it’s more than–”

“We both know that I’m a quick study, Kurosaki-kun!”

He sighed and tried to rub away the headache forming at his temples. “Inoue, I more than appreciate the offer, but–”

“Kurosaki-kun, excuse me for being blunt, but you look terrible.” He blinked, taken aback by her abrupt statement. She gestured down his front, and Ichigo suddenly felt the unnecessary need to check his modesty. "Seriously, like you could just drop dead at any moment!"

A little teasing smile played at the corner of his mouth. "I mean, technically-"

"Oh, you know what I mean," Inoue scolded. "Besides, Kuchiki-san was my friend, too,” she added quietly. Before Ichigo could speak, she jumped up from her seat. “This is my stop! Think about it, Kurosaki-kun! Bye now!”

And she was gone.

Ichigo tossed the idea back and forth in his mind as he stepped off the bus and wandered back towards the clinic. He knew that he looked as tired as he felt – to say he looked like he had been run over by a truck would be putting it kindly. He glanced at his reflection in some windows as he passed; even in the unclear image he could make out his dark circles and gaunt cheeks. As much as he loved caring for his son during the day, he desperately needed sleep back in his life.

 _Naps_ , he thought blissfully. _I could spend all of Thursday just sleeping._

Perhaps there was something to Inoue’s proposal after all.

“Dad? I’m home!” 

* * *

The air tasted almost sweet as Ichigo trekked home from his last final. He had taken a detour and hopped off the bus early, even treating himself to a boba tea on the way back, and he thought, as he chewed on the gummy tapioca balls, that it was well-deserved. _One year down!_ He mentally cheered himself. _  
_

_Five more to go, King,_ the bored, rasping voice in the back of his mind replied. He groaned and slurped up more milk tea.

“Excuse me, son?”

Ichigo turned around to face the old man, who, despite his advanced age, stood straight, albeit with the sense of quiet humility that accompanied a request. His dark eyes peered out from between heavy wrinkles, and Ichigo noted how bright they seemed as the younger man acknowledged him.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Yes, indeed! It seems like I have somewhere to be, but no one has been able to help me. I have a feeling that you can.”

Ichigo’s eyes trailed from the man’s withered face, down to his chest. Ah, that explains it.

“Of course, please, follow me.” He led the two of them home at a sedate pace, exchanging small talk with the old man.

Tachibana Eiji, as he had introduced himself – “A boring name from unimaginative parents. Who names their second son, ‘second son?’ Bah!” – seemed quite sharp, and after a few minutes he had snapped his gnarled fingers in an “A-Ha!” gesture. He poked Ichigo in the ribs and winked. “You’re Masaki-chan’s son, aren’t you?”

Ichigo blinked dumbly in response. “Yes?”

“I knew it! Not many young men walking around with all this,” he gestured to his own slicked back silver hair, but Ichigo got his meaning, “you know. I used to see you and your mother in the park all the time! What a lovely woman. I was saddened to hear of her passing.” The two turned the street corner, and Ichigo could spy the clinic’s sign down the road.

“Did you know her well?”

“No, no, just in the way that a nosy old man knows everybody. You grew up fine, though! You were such a shy child – I considered it such an achievement on the day when you stopped and helped me paint my fence! You even spoke more than two sentences to me,” Eiji teased.

Ichigo tried to think back to the day in question, but he drew a blank. He rubbed his neck in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I… don’t remember that.”

“Ah, you were young. I wouldn’t have expected you to,” the man brushed off his apology, and settled his hands behind his back. “The important memories stick with you, after all! You’ll see when you have children.”

Ichigo smiled a little. “Yeah, I guess I’ll be seeing soon, then.”

“You have kids?!” Eiji exclaimed, but Ichigo could hear the honest excitement in his tone. “Way to make an old man feel older! What a joy, my boy, what a joy.”

They paused briefly outside of the front door for Ichigo to toss his empty cup in the garbage before entering. When Eiji began to toe off his shoes in the entry, Ichigo assured him there was no need, and he called out his typical, “I’m home!”

“Welcome home, Ichi-nii! Congratulations on finishing your first year!” Yuzu greeted him as they walked into the living room. Kazui squealed as she swept him up in her arms and held him in front of her face. “Good job, Daddy! You’re doing great!” she said in a different voice.

Eiji chuckled as Ichigo thanked his sister and smacked a kiss on his son’s head. “I’ll be right back, Yuzu, we have a guest.” He gestured to the couch for Eiji to sit. “I’ll be right back, I need to get changed.”

“It’s fine, son, I’ll stand.” Ichigo nodded and took the stairs, two at a time.

Yuzu waited awkwardly, her eyes darting around the room. “I’m sorry,” she spoke after a minute, an uneasy smile quirking the corners of her mouth.

Eiji shook his head. “Not at all, dear.” He booped Kazui’s nose and prompted a happy gurgle of baby talk from the boy. “Aren’t you a bright one?”

“Sorry for the delay,” Ichigo announced as he came back down the stairs. He pulled on the collar of his shihakusho to straighten it out. Eiji raised an amused eyebrow at his ensemble, and Ichigo could already see the mischievous comment teasing at his lips. “Yes, well, it’s a uniform. I don’t really get a say in it.”

“Are those butchering knives standard issue, as well?”

Ichigo laughed and hefted Zangetsu in a “what can I say” manner. “Not exactly. Are you ready?”

Eiji smiled, but for the first time that afternoon it was tinged in sadness. “I will dearly miss my darling Hana. Would you stop by and help her sometime? Our children live abroad, and I’m afraid that she’ll be lonely without me there to irritate her and ruin her gardening. Ours is the blue house, just two streets down from the park, with that stately magnolia just inside the fence. Number thirty-eight.”

“I’ll do my best, sir.”

“Will I remember anything?”

“No,” Ichigo admitted. He had never been one to sugarcoat things, “but it’s better not remembering.”

“Ah,” the old man sighed, a look of understanding in his dark eyes. “I suppose so for one like me, but you have much ahead of you. It’s important not to forget, even if it pains you.” Ichigo lifted the blade in his right hand, and the pommel began to glow brightly in preparation. Eiji simply bowed in gratitude, a soft smile stretching his lips. “It is what builds a kind person.”

Ichigo pressed the seal gently to the old man’s forehead and watched as the konso led him away in its golden glow. Then the light and the man were gone, and Kazui cooed, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. Neither noticed the darker haired twin, seated on the stairs, slip back up the steps, a tight expression marring her features. 

* * *

_“Mmm. Wake up, dumbo, it’s time to train.” Early morning sun streaked across his face, but Ichigo just scrunched his nose and tried to ignore it. He was as content as he could possibly be, curled around his girlfriend and breathing in her soft scent of star jasmine and cotton. That is, if she would just stop squirming like a trapped cat. Ichigo leaned into her more heavily, drawing an indignant, and slightly breathless, gasp from her._

_“Nope, too comfortable here. Can’t move.” He pressed his smile into her shoulder and hoped she wouldn’t see it._

_Rukia used her free hand to whack harmlessly at his shoulder. “Well, you’re going to have to move eventually. I’ve got a division to run, and I can’t do that from underneath your heavy ass.”  
_

_Ichigo hummed. “Not my fault. Maybe you should work out more.” She let out a vexed squawk and redoubled her efforts to wriggle free._

_“You are literally a giant!”_

_“Kenpachi? Maybe. Komamura? Definitely. Me? Nope, you’re just a midget.”_

_“Oh, I’ll show you midget, you!” She had somehow wrestled her legs free and, with a flick of her hips, sent them flipping over with a victorious whoop._

_Not one to be outdone, and thoroughly enjoying irritating her so early in the day, Ichigo playfully tussled with her, kicking off the sheets that had wound their way around his legs. His hands rose quickly to her sides to tickle with pinpoint accuracy, knowing her weak points by heart. She gasped out a laugh and pushed him further into the futon, but he had the advantage with his reach and simply focused on other ticklish spots on her body._

_Finally, she managed to trap his hands in hers and intertwined their fingers to forestall any more attacks on her person. Panting and laughing straddled across his hips, Rukia crowed her victory, but Ichigo found himself transfixed by the flush high on her cheeks, and her tousled raven hair, and the way her eyes glittered with amusement. A sharp tug on their clasped hands jolted her forward, and he rose halfway to meet her, lips caressing hers as he tried to kiss through their grins._

_“Good morning.”_

_“Mmhmm.” Rukia shook her fingers free from his and instead twined them in the hair behind his ears, clasping tight as she went in for another kiss. He indulged her, languid and soft, until he broke free with a chuckle._

_“What about training?”_

_She lightly bit his nose for his cheekiness, only making him laugh harder, but her smile was as gentle as the sunbeams pushing through the window. “We have plenty of time.”_

Ichigo bolted upright in his bed, startled awake by the crash of thunder that reverberated through the house. He glanced next to him, expecting to see her wrapped gently in their blankets, but the bed was empty, just as it had been for months. He felt a seeping coldness spread over him, and his heart sat like a stone in his chest. He fell back into his pillow, his forearm braced against his eyes as he gritted his teeth against the sobs that tried to bubble up out of his throat.

It wasn’t so much the next rumble of thunder that stole his attention back to reality as it was his son’s frightened wails that followed. Ichigo wearily swept a hand over his face – it was an ordeal and a half to get Kazui to sleep through the night in the first place – and pushed himself out of his bed to stumble the couple of steps it took to get to the crib.

The light from the street lamp outside bathed the room and its occupants in an eerie orange and cast dramatic shadows across the baby’s crying face. Ichigo’s heart, still heavy but warming at the sight of his son, tugged painfully. Reaching into the crib, he scooped Kazui into his arms, but his soft shushing did little to calm him down. In a spark of realization, he remembered the little boy’s plushie, and the young father nabbed the toy before taking all three of them back to his own bed.

Another peal of thunder rolled through the night, and Kazui took a deep breath to continue his cries. Ichigo quickly laid back down and settled the boy on his chest. The baby pressed his face closer, seeking out the comforting rhythm of his father’s heartbeat, and snuggled into his father’s warmth. The cries reduced to intermittent sniffles, and Ichigo reintroduced the toy to his son’s grasping hands with a sigh of relief.

The white rabbit smiled up at him, its cartoon face just as blank and dumb as it was when she had first brought it home all those years ago, excitedly exclaiming over _Ichigo, they put them on sale! This one is limited edition!_ He shook his head and lightly flicked its thread nose. _Two constants in my life_ , Ichigo thought with chagrin, _spirits and Chappy_. He rubbed a palm over Kazui’s back.

“Come on, now, it’s just a little rain. I know, I don’t like it either. Help your poor dad, go back to sleep.”

His own eyelids felt like lead, his blinks becoming slower and heavier. As soon as he was assured that Kazui was asleep with his tiny baby snores, he gave in and let his eyes fall closed. The rain continued to beat against the window, but he dreamt again of the sun and violet eyes gazing up at him.

Ichigo roused again just a few hours later as the weight of his infant son lifted from his chest. He cracked his eyes and blearily took in Yuzu transferring Kazui back to his crib with gentle hands. A quick glance to his window proved that the rain had let up significantly, only falling in an intermittent sprinkle again the glass. She noticed his stirring and shot a smile his way.

“Go back to sleep, Ichi-nii, the clinic won’t open for a few more hours, but Dad says to take the day off.” She didn’t need to tell him twice, and he rolled over with a grunt once more. He would catch all the sleep he could, and he especially didn’t mind sleeping through the storm.

When he did finally manage to pull himself out of bed, he dressed in an old shirt and dirty jeans, and walked himself over to the park. He carefully skirted around evidence of the previous night’s storm, hopping over puddles and moving fallen branches off of the sidewalk. When he came to the right house, he looked for a moment at the large flowering tree in the front garden before pushing inside the gate and rapping his knuckles on the front door.

The woman who answered was so dainty that he was certain that, had she stepped outside the night before, the winds would have swept her away in an instant. Her expression was fragile, too, but Ichigo had already known that it would be. “Are you Tachibana Hana-san?”

“Yes, dear, I am. Who might you be?”

“I’m Kurosaki Ichigo. I work as a handyman, and your husband came to me last week to enlist my services. I thought that after the storm last night, today would be as good a day as any to get started.”

Her lip quivered at the mention of her late husband, but she opened the door wider. “I’m sorry, but my Eiji passed away just recently. I’m afraid that I’m so out of sorts, I wouldn’t even know how to go about compensating you.”

“He’s already taken care of that, ma’am.” Ichigo bowed politely. “I see that you lost some branches last night. Should I start with your garden?”

A wan smile graced her face. “That old badger, always sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong,” she murmured gently. “Please, if you move the fallen branches, I will be out shortly to sort out the flowerbed below, hmm? Then I’ll make some tea and see about where else I can put you to work.”

Ichigo nodded and set to his task, trying his best to not trample the rain-soaked garden as he pulled the magnolia branches from the flowerbed. Still, he heard her tutting good-naturedly behind him. “Watch your feet, dear. Goodness, my husband would always do the same thing. I swear, you men don’t understand what it means to step lightly.”

“Of course, ma’am. I’ll do my best.” 

* * *

“Kurosaki!” Ichigo turned around, arms laden with grocery bags. Kazui, strapped to his back like a backpack, fisted his little hands in Ichigo’s hair and _pulled._ Jogging up to them was a familiar face, but it still took him a moment to place it – Tanaka Hiroshi, his lab partner from first semester biology and go-to guy for any and all social functions. He swept his waving hand through his hair before lightly socking Ichigo in the shoulder. “Hey, man, what have you been up to? It was like you dropped off the face of the earth!”

Hands full, the taller boy could not do much more than shrug. “Yeah, you could say that. I, uh, went abroad for a little while, then got pretty busy.”

“That’s awesome! I remember you said you’d gone international before university, too. Where did you-” Kazui made a babbling noise and waved a hand over Ichigo’s shoulder. Tanaka blinked in surprise. “Oh, god, that’s a small person. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your babysitting.”

Ichigo gave a short chuckle. This part was always fun. “Oh, I’m not babysitting. He’s mine. Say hi, Kazui.” Ichigo turned to the side to allow his son to see the other man. Kazui bounced in his harness, one hand still waving.

“Umbaaaa.”

“Close enough.”

Tanaka covered his mouth with his hands, but Ichigo could swear he heard him whisper, _so cute, holy shit._ A quick glance confirmed that he looked like he had just melted into a puddle. “Wow, dude! I never pictured you as the young dad type!” He waggled his fingers excitedly at the baby, who squealed happily and pulled Ichigo’s hair again. _Ow_.

“Well, er, now you can. In all my baby daddy glory.” Ichigo spread his arms out a bit, “Diaper carrying, baby slinging, certified baby daddy.”

“Did you get married? Who’s the lucky lady?”

Ichigo flinched. He’d gotten this question a few too many times, but he always felt uncomfortable addressing it. “Oh. Um, she’s dead.” Technically true. “I don’t really want to talk about her.” Definitely false, but Tanaka was definitely not the appropriate audience to discuss matters of life-after-death or end-of-the-world scenarios which had, in fact, happened. Even if he could convincingly half-lie his way through his relationship, he honestly did not think he would be emotionally present enough to answer any well-meaning sympathies.

He wasn’t ready to talk about it. He didn’t know if he ever would be.

“OH. Man, I’m so sorry, that was tactless of me.” Ichigo tuned back to what Tanaka was saying. He looked a little galled by his own behavior. “I didn’t mean to – I shouldn’t have-” Ichigo just smiled and shook his head.

“It’s okay, I’m used to the whole Single Dad thing, now.” It’s not like he knew it any other way.

“Well, this would certainly explain why you’ve ducked out of literally every party for the last semester.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s kind of hard to justify going for drinks when my family is stuck watching Kazui all day.”

“No, dude, I get it. Don’t forget that dads deserve some fun, too, yeah?” He nudged an elbow into Ichigo’s ribs with a laugh. Ichigo had forgotten that Tanaka was almost as touchy as Keigo. “When you need a break, get a babysitter and hit me up! I’ll let you know what’s happenin’ around town.”

“Thanks, Tanaka. You’ll be my first call,” Ichigo reassured, hoping that it did not just sound like lip service to a nosy classmate. Tanaka hummed, obviously not very convinced, but smiled anyway and booped Kazui on the nose, prompting bubbly baby giggles and waving hands.

“I’ve got to go, now, meeting up with Sato and Eri at the cinema. It was good running into you, Kurosaki, really.” He grinned, and Ichigo believed him. Tanaka always struck him as an earnest person. “Bye, Kurosaki! Kazui-chan!” He waved, hardly waiting for one in return before turning and jogging toward the station. 

* * *

“I’m home,” Ichigo called tonelessly as he kicked off his shoes in the entryway. He felt that day’s exhaustion all the way through to his bones; he had been fantasizing about collapsing on his bed since just after lunch. Just one week into his second year and already he knew that his course load would be a doozy. Unlike the previous two semesters, where his professors eased the classes into the curriculum, his teachers this time around had pushed them all straight into the deep end and told them to start swimming.

His light jacket slipped from his shoulders and fell to the floor. He just looked at it tiredly and heaved a sigh. He was about to call out again, but his father was there when he looked up, a stern finger already to his lips.

“I’ve already put my precious grandson to sleep, don’t you dare go waking him up with your racket!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ichigo groaned as he slumped toward the dining room. “Sorry, the lab went long. I couldn’t leave until the whole class was released.” He paused. The twins sat at the table with serious demeanors, though Yuzu nervously fidgeted with her hands. “What’s up?”

“This,” Isshin stated simply, pushing him into a seat at the table while dropping his abandoned jacket in his lap, “is your intervention.”

“My _what_.”

“You need help, Ichigo. You’re pulling yourself in too many different directions. Did you know that that was once literally a form of torture? Still, figuratively speaking, you’re wearing yourself too thin, and you’re doing it to distract from the root of the problem.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been managing perfectly fine – I’ve started out this semester well, I get my work done, and I’m doing exactly what I need to.” Ichigo felt his mood sour, and what had started as exhausted irritation was quickly becoming indignant anger.

“I know that you’ve taken up extra work again.” Ichigo looked away guiltily. He had been trying to keep it on the downlow, but he knew baby expenses weren’t cheap, in addition to his university fees. What had started as favors for the recently deceased had become a paying side hustle again. “Our deal was that you would focus on school and leave the rest to us! But that doesn’t work if you’re driving yourself into the ground, and, whether you mean to or not, you’re taking it out on the rest of us.”

Yuzu leaned forward earnestly, but she continued to anxiously pick at her fingernails. “Ichi-nii, you’re so busy all the time. You hardly sleep, and don’t think I haven’t noticed at you’re losing weight! I’m so worried at you’re killing yourself!”

“Newsflash, Yuzu,” Ichigo growled out. He didn’t know why; Yuzu had never been the confrontational type, and he had always made a point to soften his tone with his sisters. Still, he didn’t mince his words. “I’ve been dead for years!”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should stop acting like it!” Karin bit back. She was on her feet in an instant and bringing an authoritative fist down on the poor kitchen table. “We’ve talked about this before. You promised me this wasn’t going to be like back then, when she disappeared! You promised me you wouldn’t become this, this _shell_ of a person again! We can’t even say Rukia-nee’s name without you getting that _look_ on your face!” He winced at that; he hadn’t even realized that he hadn’t spoken her name for months. Or thought it, for that matter. “That was a year and a half, Ichigo! This is the rest of your life!” Frustration brimmed along her lashes, but she refused to let it fall. Not yet. “And it doesn’t belong to you, not anymore! It belongs to Kazui, and he doesn’t deserve this!”

He felt his exhaustion-turned-anger-turned-frustration bubble up and overwhelm him. “You think I don’t know that?!” He dropped his face into his palms, his shoulders hiked up around his ears. “None of you deserve this!”

Ichigo felt a warm hand smooth his hair, and he almost cried out from that tender action alone. “Ichigo.” He didn’t move. “Hey, Ichigo,” Isshin repeated, gently tossing the orange strands. Slowly, he brought his eyes up to meet his father’s concerned gaze. “You can’t just bury yourself in your work again. It’s not healthy, and you need to stop punishing yourself.”

The young man furrowed his brow in confusion. “Punishing myself? I’m not…” _You lost her, you lost them, you will never be a family –_ for the first time in months, he felt Zangetsu raging inside him, pulsating with grief and loss instead of the resignation he had become accustomed to. _You wouldn’t listen to me before, but you’ll listen to me now! You lost our Queen, King. Again._

“Aren’t you?” Isshin prodded, but Ichigo knew the question was rhetorical.

“We don’t deserve this, Ichi-nii. But neither do you.” Karin’s words were firm, despite the tears pushing their way down her frustration-flushed cheeks.

He buried his face in his hands once more. “Fuck.” He stood up suddenly, almost knocking his chair over in his haste. “I’m sorry, I just – I need to breathe. I mean, I need some air. I’m just—” Ichigo pushed away from the table and fled the room and the clinic, not stopping to take the time to put his shoes on in the entryway.

Ichigo didn’t go far. He knew it wasn’t fair to his family, to have just left them like that, and his feet felt like cement. He hadn’t even made it past the end of their street before the guilt that weighed in his stomach was too heavy to go any further.

He stopped in his tracks and stared up at the night sky. Even with Karakura’s light pollution, plenty of stars shone their way down on him, little pinpricks of time and perseverance. How was it that they could continue to shine like that? Millions of years from their home, but they remained beacons that sailors set their course by, ever-far finish lines that astronauts strove towards time and again.

Rukia had been that.

He pushed through the shock of pain her name sent through his chest instead of pushing it aside.

Rukia had been his finish line, _still was_ that ultimate goal, but she was always out of reach, always further and further away from his grasping fingers and empty arms.

Ichigo didn’t need to turn when his father’s steady footsteps announced his arrival. He just released a breath he hadn’t realized that he had been holding and vaguely wished that it was still cold enough that he could see the vapor dispersing into the night air. The footsteps stopped, and they stood there in silence, father and son, and gazed at the stars.

“As wholly inconvenient as it is,” Isshin began softly, looking up at the cloudless night, “not to mention, incredibly lonely, I’m afraid that you inherited the Shiba curse.” At Ichigo’s wordless question, Isshin threw a cheeky grin in his direction. “One love. That’s it. It fulfills you and consumes you and makes you miserable and brings you the greatest joy you’ll ever feel. That person just captures you in the heart and mind and just won’t let you go, and you don’t want them to. I’m sorry to tell you, son, but you have a hard life ahead of you.”

“Is it ever going to go away, Dad? This,” Ichigo palmed his shirt over his chest, and his heart thumped morosely in reply, “this.” His hand clenched into a fist which he knocked gently into his sternum.

“No, not really. But why would you want it to?” Ichigo faced his father with an expression of disbelief, uncomprehending. Isshin gentled his mischievous grin into a softer look. “Any doctor will tell you that pain’s important, Ichigo. It tells you that there’s something there to pay attention to. The worst days are the ones when you don’t feel it, and you realize that you didn’t even notice that its gone.” He rubbed a hand across his chest, as if trying to soothe an ache. “Don’t avoid it, Ichigo. Learn to swim in it without it drowning you… float and let it support you, instead.” He clapped a hand over his son’s shoulder and gave him a playful shake. “Come on. You need your sleep, and you need to get some food in you before that.”

“I don’t think I could eat right now.”

“Too bad. Yuzu was stress baking this afternoon, and we are buried in cookies. You’re eating.”

The two made their way back down the street, and, when they got a bit closer, Ichigo caught a glimpse of a figure on the roof, face illuminated by the blue light of her cell phone. “Is that Karin?”

“Hmm? Yeah. I still don’t know how she gets up there.”

Another figure joined her, and she slid the phone into her sweatshirt. Even without the glow of her screen, Ichigo could pick out the shock of white hair. “Is that –”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Is she –”

“Mm-hmmmmm,” Isshin drew it out and punctuated it with a sigh. “Not that she knows it yet. He probably doesn’t realize it himself, yet, either, but in a few years, I suspect I’m going to having a very similar conversation with her. Thanks for the practice.”

“Yeah,” Ichigo muttered. The pair on the roof appeared to be in deep conversation, oblivious to their onlookers.

“Come on, inside. We don’t want to embarrass your sister.”

“You have _literally_ built your life around embarrassing me.”

“I’m well aware that there’s a double standard here, and I just don’t care.” Isshin pushed him gently to the front door. “And take off those socks before you walk through the house. They’re filthy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

* * *

Ichigo stared at his phone’s contact list, his finger hesitantly hovering over one name in particular. It had been a while since Inoue had put forth her offer to help – she could have taken on another job already, or finally had enough funds to jump into university with the new school year. His stomach sank with the thought that he had missed out on her generosity, but he shook his head. _No_ , he thought. Inoue was one of the very few people – beings? Sentient constructs, living or dead? – who he could entrust his son to without any worries, and, he reminded himself as he tapped on her name and brought the cell to his ear, she had put the idea forward in the first place.

His worries were laid to rest almost immediately as her chipper voice bubbled out of his phone speaker. “Kurosaki-kun! How are you? How is Kazui-chan? You haven’t been very good about sending new pictures, you know.”

Ichigo chuckled, partly in relief and a more than a little self-deprecation. “Hey, yeah, sorry. Things have been a little bit hectic lately, between the end of the school year and the beginning of another. They still are, actually.”

The was a pause from the other end of the line before his friend gave a suspicious hum. “Kurosaki-kun,” Inoue sounded serious, but the hopeful lilt in her tone betrayed her, “did you consider my offer?”

 _It’s time you learned to let others support you_.

“Yeah, um, if you’re still available, it really would be a big help.” Ichigo quickly jerked the phone away from his ear as Inoue’s excited squeal assaulted his eardrums. “I’m going to say that sounds positive?”

“Absolutely! Oh, I can’t wait to _smoosh those little cheeks_! When do you want me to start? I can come by tomorrow, or Tuesday if that’s too soon!”

“Uh, yeah, tomorrow’s fine. I have a test Friday that I need to study and rest up for so that’s ideal.”

“Do you need me to bring anything? Oh, the weather is supposed to be so nice tomorrow! I can take Kazui-chan to the park, oh! The zoo! Does he like animals? Wait, is he allergic to animals? What do I do if he falls in an enclosure? I’ll fight the bears for you, Kazui-chan!”

“Just… maybe bring a change of clothes in case he throws a tantrum during lunch or something, we’re still in the weaning stage. Baby food can get everywhere.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and pulled away with a wince when he felt some dried pea mash flaking off his skin. “Everywhere,” he repeated with a grumble. He hoped none of his classmates had noticed him wearing his son’s breakfast during classes that day – not that crusty green stuff was the worst meal he had shown up covered in. “Um, I’ll give you a set of housekeys, and all the necessities are in his diaper bag, so don’t worry about it. I’ll be around, and Dad’ll be in the clinic, too, so if you have any questions…”

“You know I’m a quick study, Kurosaki-kun! I’ll be there by nine!”

“Thank you, Inoue,” he breathed. “You really are a lifesaver.”

“Don’t even think about it! Now, what is Kazui-chan’s favorite animal?”

Ichigo made a face. Kazui was coming up on seven months. Did kids even _have_ favorite _anything_ that early? His mind flashed to his son’s Chappy plushie that he slept with every night. “Uh, rabbit, I guess?”

“Great! See you tomorrow, bye!” The abrupt _click_ on the other end of the line signaled that she had hung up, but Ichigo still blinked dumbly at the phone for a few seconds after. His baby scooted around on the floor chasing Kon (“This is why I don’t visit, anymore! Do you know how hard it is to get spit out of my tail? It gets so crusty!”) and gave little “Rarrr! Raaarr!” sounds during his pursuit. Ichigo smiled; they _had_ been working on animal noises. Maybe the zoo wouldn’t be too bad of an idea, after all. He shot a quick text to Inoue before pocketing the phone and rescuing Kon from a very persistent and roaring Kazui.

**Kurosaki Ichigo                                21:43**

Just keep an eye on him and I’m sure you won’t have to worry about Kazui crawling into any animal cages

But if he does I believe in you

                                    [read]

**Inoue Orihime                                  21:44**

(ง •̀ω•́)ง✧  ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 

                                    [delivered]

True to her word, nine the next morning was punctuated with a happy tune knocked on the front door. Kazui rolled onto his back with a coo; Ichigo hauled himself off of the floor, winced at the _pops_ that travelled up and down his spine, and pasted on a tired smile to greet his friend. Inoue looked so bright and full of energy that Ichigo almost felt offended. “Hey, morning.”

“Good morning! I’m so excited for today! I bought this on the way here this morning, and I already feel like I’ve learned so much!” She slapped a book into his empty hands and walked purposefully into the house. “Where’s that little bundle of joy?”

“Living room,” Ichigo intoned as he looked down at the book in his grasp.

_So You Have A Baby Now!: The Quick-Learn Guide For The Absentee Father_

He followed her in and lifted up the literature with a cough. “‘For the absentee father?’”

“Yeah, they didn’t have one for women. That’s a little sexist right? The store clerk did give me a very odd look. Or was it sympathetic? Oh, well. It is very informative! Did you know that at seven months, Kazui-chan’s learning about object permeance? Before then, babies just think that whatever they can’t see ceases to exist!”

“Yeah, he’s been loving peekaboo lately. We’ve only played it about thirty times this morning,” Ichigo joked, bent down, and tickled his son’s belly. Kazui’s typical fizzy giggle burst forth, and Ichigo abandoned the parenting guide on the table to swing him into his arms. When he looked back to Inoue she seemed almost like she was going to explode from excitement.

“He’s gotten so much bigger since I last saw him! Oh, I hope this is the right size.” Before Ichigo could ask what she meant, Inoue had whipped something out of her purse and tugged it on over Kazui’s head. “There you go, Kazui-chan! Now _you_ can be a bunny, too!”

Kazui patted his new hat, pink with bunny ears, and Ichigo could see the stars of wonder in his eyes. “Bunaa?”

“Yes, Kazui-chan is a bunny!”

“Bunaa!” He exclaimed, practically glowing with happiness. Ichigo passed him over to Inoue as he began to babble in his excitement, and Inoue listened intently and replied whenever he stopped. After a little while, she glanced over to Ichigo, who seemed to be melting into the couch, and shooed him off upstairs to go back to sleep.

Ichigo gratefully left them to rejoin the blissful softness of his bed, and, as he collapsed face-first into his pillow with that settling knowledge that he had nowhere else to be that day, he knew that he’d left Kazui in good hands. 

* * *

“So Orihime-chan, huh?” Ichigo looked up from the television screen, allowing Tatsuki to get a combo hit in. He quickly focused back on the game again, slow from sleeplessness and rusty besides.

“What about her?” He resisted the urge to check his phone for any texts; it was only the third time he had left Kazui alone with Inoue, and she had practically forced him out the door that day to catch up with his oldest friend. _After this round_ , he convinced himself and flicked the joystick.

“You know what I’m getting at. Are you two dating, now?”

Ichigo snorted and smashed a button. He frowned when his fighter kicked instead of punched. Shit. Which one was block, again? “She’s Kazui’s nanny. She’s helping me out.” He hit his controller against his palm. Was this thing even working?

Tatsuki hummed dismissively. Her character landed another clean combo. “It wouldn’t be the first time the Daddy’s screwed the Nanny.” Bile rose reflexively in his throat. Not even because of Inoue, not really – objectively, she was an attractive and intelligent young woman, and he knew she had many fans – but because his heart only had room for the shinigami who had pierced it all those years ago. She had quite literally carved a hole for herself, and only she would fit.

“No. Just… no.” His fighter managed a sweeping kick, but it seemed too little too late.

“Mmmhmm. Whatever you say, loser.” She finished him off, _WINNER!_ flashing across the screen in flashing bold letters.

“I’m serious, Tatsuki. Nothing’s going to happen.” He frowned at the lack of messages and fired off one himself, trying not to acknowledge the nervousness that still simmered in his stomach.

**Kurosaki Ichigo                                12:27**

How’s everything going??

                                    [read]

**Inoue Orihime                                  12:27**

we watched some of those baby ed videos this morning~ kazuki-chan’s so cute!!! (≧∇≦o) we just finished eating lunch!!! who knew that baby food tasted so good?? ( ｣｡╹o╹｡)｣

                                    [read]

Ichigo let out a soft sigh of relief.

Rolling her eyes, his friend plopped her face into her propped-up hand. “Does she know that?” Tatsuki grumbled.

“Hm, what did you say?” Ichigo glanced up from his phone, pausing halfway through teasing Inoue for eating Kazui’s mashed up yams. He still insisted on the homemade baby food that Yuzu made, not quite trusting Inoue’s eccentric palette not to come up with something inedible just yet.

“Nothing, dumbo. Let’s go another round! Wait, want to order pizza?”

“Holy shit, _yes_.” 

* * *

Ichigo closed his Basic Psychology textbook with a smile and shuffled all his loose sheets into his notebook. He could check _that_ homework off the list. Faintly, he could make out the sounds of Inoue and Kazui playing in the sideyard, enjoying more of the warming spring weather.

Physically, he felt significantly better after Inoue stepped in to help with his son. He was getting sleep! He wasn’t rushing through schoolwork! He was getting _sleep_! Alright, so apparently, he had been more sleep deprived than he had recognized, but, looking back on the past few months, Ichigo was rather impressed with himself for not outright keeling over in the streets in a coma.

He was even excited to note that morning that the dark bags under his eyes were smaller and lighter in color! He told Kazui so, but he didn’t get the impression that the baby, with his soft skin and rosy cheeks, fully appreciated the enormity of the situation.

With more sleep, he had also noticed his stress levels drop significantly. Those might also be due to Inoue, too, now that he thought of it. The strain of feeling like he was always inconveniencing his father had certainly played a large factor in his overall anxiety. Though he felt a little of that weight in the beginning of Inoue’s nannying arrangement, too, she waved it off almost immediately. He had also insisted on trying to pay her, but she dismissed that as well, claiming that Kazui “purified the air around her with his smile” or some other crock. Still, Ichigo had managed to slip her cash under the guise of not knowing how much the zoo tickets were or the price of her commute. She always accepted the money, but she made sure he knew that she was onto his scheme.

Ichigo looked at the clock and noted with surprise how quickly he had finished off his coursework. He had just decided to pull out his Medical History books when he heard a door open, and Inoue’s voice rang through the house.

“Kurosaki-kun! You have a visitor!”

He turned in his seat as Byakuya stepped into view, stuffed into his suit-clad gigai as always, with Kazui baby talking excitedly, if not a little tiredly, in his arms. His happy gibberish was interspersed with adorable yawns, even cuter when he fisted the drawstring to his bunny hat and mouthed at it between pauses. Inoue walked in behind them and wordlessly gestured that she would be getting something to eat in the kitchen, now that someone else held her charge’s attention.

Ichigo stood to shake Byakuya’s free hand. “Hey. I didn’t know you were coming.”

Byakuya nodded solemnly. “Yes, it was unexpected. I needed to impress upon my stationed subordinate the value in a thorough work ethic.” He raised a knowing and well-groomed brow at the younger man, who tried not to fidget under his scrutiny. “It appears as though someone else has been picking up his slack, and I was under the assumption that the individual doing so has more pressing priorities to attend.”

“Listen, you don’t need to vague at me or anything,” Ichigo admitted, a bit sore at being called out on his extracurricular activities again. “It did get to be too much at one point, but now that I have Inoue helping me with Kazui, helping out with the spiritual side of things is cathartic. It just feels right.”

“It is in everyone’s best interest if you do not continue.” The noble shifted his nephew in his grasp, allowing him to tug on his long hair but deftly removing the strands from his tiny hands when the infant moved to stuff them in his mouth. His already grave expression darkened further. “The judges have moved to reconstruct the Soukyoku,” he spat the word like it was poison on his tongue.

Ichigo felt the color drain from his face, his previous good mood rapidly following suit. “They wouldn’t.”

“They _are_.”

“What were they thinking?!”

Byakuya sneered, and the movement brought character to his normally marble-carved face. “A deterrent, presumably. It is apparently no longer enough to have a metaphoric sword hanging above our necks. They want the actual weapon poised to remind us all.”

“How is she taking it?” Ichigo could only imagine the pain Rukia must be suffering, and he was all too literally a world away.

“Better than can be expected. I’m not so naïve as to think that she’s confided in me the breadth of how it’s affecting her…” Kazui snuggled his face into the space between his uncle’s jaw and shoulder, babbling a happy sigh and contentedly snuffling into his neck. Byakuya swayed absently.

The young father paced in agitation, his fisted hands restrained by his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “It’s a physical reminder of the unjust judicial process that she was a victim of, one that nearly killed her. And she’ll have to relive it every time she looks up!” He barely noticed Inoue come to stand in the doorway, her own frustration evident across her pretty features. “She will literally be living in the shadow of her death sentence,” he growled through his clenched jaw. “Raising our _daughter_ under that threat!”

“Additionally, the scale of the new construct appears to be… much exaggerated in comparison to its predecessor. The judges want it _encompassing_ the hill itself.”

Ichigo snorted derisively. “That’s just overkill.”

“Indeed. It’s a measure so drastic as to be ludicrous. I believe they already have some inkling as to the movements to undermine their authority, and they’re grasping vainly to what power they still have.” Byakuya leveled Ichigo with his stern gaze, his eyes glinting like the steel of his zanpakutou.

Ichigo stilled, even though he still felt like he was vibrating out of his bones. Though, to be fair, he didn’t think he would ever be truly at peace until he felt his whole family in the circle of his arms.

“You _cannot_ give them an excuse. That’s why you are _here_. Do not do anything that might draw their eyes, or you are not only putting your neck on the chopping block.” He smoothed a hand across Kazui’s back to cup the back of his head. Ichigo stiffened in response, and he felt Zangetsu’s enraged pummeling against the wall that divided their spirits. “If need be, there is no doubt that many will fight to protect you. But it is not the right time,” the shinigami brushed a thumb across his sleepy nephew’s plump cheek before returning him to his father, “and, when it is, I will happily watch as you once again hack that symbol of oppression into kindling.” 

* * *

Ichigo blew another raspberry kiss into Kazui’s belly, his cheeks hurting from the wide grin that split his face. His son gasped in delight and wriggled in his grasp. Before he could go in for another dive, however, Inoue’s exuberant greeting as she entered the house interrupted him. Ichigo instead tucked Kazui into his body like an American football, his small head, covered in feathery ginger hair, cradled securely in and dwarfed by his father’s hand. He made his way down the stairs, grabbing Chappy and a teething toy with his freehand.

Before he could call out a greeting of his own, however, he was interrupted by a yellow blur launching toward him.

“Ichigoooooo!”

On reflex, he lifted his foot to block the incoming projectile, which made a soft cry as it came in contact with his heel. Ichigo blinked, surprise coloring his expression. “Kon?”

“Ichigo! To treat me so cruelly as I come to grace you with my company – it’s unforgivable!” The little yellow lion leapt up from the floor, brushing imaginary dirt off of his front.

“Longtime no see?”

“You bet! It’s been weeks! And this is how you greet me? It’s like you didn’t miss me at all!” He cried indignantly. His paws crossed over his chest as he huffed. “At least Nee-san was happy to see me when I visited her, but you just plant your dirty, smelly foot in my face!”

“Well _maybe_ if you didn’t shoot yourself at me like a damn cannonball that wouldn’t be the case! And my feet aren’t smelly!”  

“Why don’t you come down here and take a sniff?!”

Kazui preempted Ichigo’s retort with a grumble, obviously grumpy that he couldn’t see the owner of the new voice. Ichigo rolled his eyes at the stuffed animal and made his way to the kitchen, ignoring Kon’s squawks at being ignored. He greeted Inoue, who had brought groceries on the way – what in the world was she going to do with gherkins and cream of mushroom soup? – and handed her the toys in his left hand.

“I picked up Kon on my way past Urahara’s. He’s just as feisty as ever, isn’t he?”

“That’s one way to put it. Okay, Kon, stop whining!”

“It’s not like I’m here to see you, anyway! Now, let me see, let me see!” Kon jumped as high as he could and ended up plastered to Ichigo’s hip. The man peeled him off with a sigh and resituated him on his shoulder so that he could see Kazui and vice versa.

Kazui gazed up at the stuffed lion, blinking in astonishment to see it moving and talking, looked over at his pile of toys, and returned his wide-eyed stare to Kon. He let out a shriek of delight, apparently remembering what appeared to him as the magically talking toy, his hands flying to his face in uncontainable excitement. “Rarr! _Raaaaarr_!”

“Getting better with those roars, I see! Well, I came prepared, this time! Tadaa!” Kon proudly gestured to his tail, the tip of which Ichigo now noticed was adorned with plastic. “ _Anti-Baby Drool Super Shield_!”

“You mean cling wrap?”

“It does the job!” Kon hopped off his shoulder and darted into the living room.

Ichigo shook his head in exasperation and gently lowered his squirming son to the floor, where Kazui immediately took off after the modsoul in a confident crawl.

“Kurosaki-kun, could you help me? I can’t reach the top shelf.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll take care of the rest of these. Thanks for picking these up.”

“Not at all! Say, what’s your opinion on bonito flakes and caramel as a snack dip?”

“No to the bonito, yes to the caramel.”

“Spoilsport,” she teased and eased back from where the bags sat on the counter. Ichigo took her place and stored the groceries, though he did cast a few concerned glances at some of her purchases. Inoue giggled at his exaggerated expressions. “Is there something wrong?”

Ichigo hefted a… something, out the bag. Fruit? Vegetable? “Do you even know what this is? Because I certainly don’t.” Was it a melon? A squash?

“Oh, I have no idea! I thought it looked like alien food, and I _had_ to get it! Can’t you imagine this as the centerpiece to some feast on some other planet? My imagination just went wild!”

“Yeah, I’d agree with you there, but how are we supposed to eat it here, on Earth?” He received a cheerful and carefree shrug in response before remembering who exactly he was talking to. Whether or not she was always successful – though he was firmly in the cautious camp when it came to any dish that came out of her kitchen – Inoue was the uncontested master of unusual cuisine. He left the green, bumpy produce on the counter and moved on to the other items.

“Do you have any plans for tonight?” Her tone was cavalier, but Ichigo could hear something else hidden under it. Was it apprehension? He shook his head in the negative as he moved to the fridge to deposit the orange juice.

“Only the same thing I’ve been doing every night for the last some-odd months.”

“It’s a weekend, Kurosaki-kun! Your father will close up the clinic soon, and the girls will be here. Plus, Kon!” As if to punctuate her point, a crash echoed through the house.

“Everything’s fine!” Came the muffled yell, almost covered by Kazui’s bright laughter. Ichigo gave Inoue a look, clearly trying to convey, _see what we’re working with_?

“What I’m trying to say is that you should come out tonight! I’m meeting Tatsuki-chan and my friend Etsuko-chan from work, and we can call Ishida-kun and Asano-kun and Kojima-kun! Though, Kojima-kun probably has a date, it is Saturday, after all. But you deserve some time off!”

Ichigo hummed noncommittedly before he stopped and thought about it. He whipped out his phone and sent out a message to Tanaka. Before he could pocket it again, a volley of texts came back, all with various all-caps and emojis scattered throughout. “A classmate of mine just sent a list of parties and meetups for tonight, if you want to try one of those places.”

Inoue already had her phone out, fingers flying over her keyboard. “I’ll coordinate! Can I see those…?”

“Yeah, here.” He dropped his phone into her hand. Another crash from the other room drew his attention. “I’m going to take care of that.” Inoue waved him off and accepted a call.

“Tatsuki-chan? Yes, the bar next to the station, not the one by the pool. No, no, the _bar_ , _that’s_ a host club!”   

Ichigo left her to figure out the details. When his father came in from the clinic a few minutes later, the older man almost cried in relief when he heard that the two of them were going out for the night, exclaiming over “youthfulness” and that Ichigo would, for once, “act his damn age.”

Around eleven, they headed out toward Karakura’s bar district. Ichigo was nearly tackled twice, first by Keigo and then again, later, by Tanaka. Tatsuki, already a few beers in, almost threw him over her shoulder, but he dodged her rough displays of affection with a laugh.

Later, after a having downed a few drinks himself, he looked over his mottled group of friends, old and new, and reminded himself that it was okay to enjoy himself. His swimming thoughts brought him back to her sad smile, and the way her soft lips formed around her words all that time ago. _Go on. Experience life._

A hand clapped firmly on his shoulder, and he turned to meet his cousin’s shy – and still entirely sober – smile. Ichigo grinned in greeting and announced Ishida’s arrival to the group, who immediately cheered and thrust a beer into his empty hands. The Quincy threw a bewildered, but not entirely displeased, look over his shoulder as their friends seemed to absorb him into their mass of bad jokes and clinking glasses. Ichigo pulled out his phone and snapped a quick photo, which he planned to send off to Chad later with some sort of snarking comment about missing out.

When he next looked up, he met Inoue’s laughing eyes with his own, and, when she reached out to pull him back into their revelries, he went with her. 

* * *

“Five minutes left on your test,” the professor droned from the front of the lecture hall. Ichigo wasn’t concerned; he had finished already and was just checking over the answers. The anxious writing of his peers, however, increased in speed, and he suspected that this exam might end up being curved in the end.

His eyes floated from the paper before him to the clock above the door, ticking gamely toward the end of the class period.

An otherworldly scream tore through the air, though, as usual, none of his classmates were disturbed. He tensed in his seat, his body primed to do what it did best, but he forced down the adrenaline rising in his throat. The hollow cried out again – it wasn’t too far, maybe a few blocks from campus – and Ichigo’s knuckles turned white around his pencil. He fought against every instinct he had to run out and purify it, to save whatever poor Plus it was pursuing, to _protect_.

He won.

He did nothing.

“Time’s up. Please turn in your tests.”

It really didn't feel like winning.

* * *

“Woah, there, baby boy. Don’t rush,” Ichigo soothed, nervously poised behind Kazui with his arms outstretched, ready to catch him if he happened to fall. Kazui didn’t even acknowledge his hovering father; instead, his focus trained squarely on the sofa cushion in front of him. His pudgy little fingers had managed to grip onto the soft edge, and he had determinedly decided that today would be the day that he would try and stand upright.

For the last twenty minutes, Ichigo had been on pins and needles, caught between wanting to reach for his phone to document the moment and bracing himself to catch his offspring. Kazui had been using his grip to ease himself a few inches off the carpet before glaring at the couch and gently sitting back down again. He apparently inherited his patience from his mother, because Ichigo thought the suspense was killing him.

Kazui pushed onto his feet again, and Ichigo’s attention snapped back to spotting duty. The boy was in a sort-of crouch now, diapered bottom swaying back and forth like he was contemplating his next move. He held the position, and Ichigo held his breath. He sat back down with a grumble.

Ichigo hung his head with a groan.

“Wow,” Karin’s voice drawled from above him. She had leaned over the back of the couch, her chin propped on a closed fist. “At this rate, you’re going to be even more of a helicopter dad then, well, Dad.”

“He still has a soft head, you know. I’m just being cautious!”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that when he’s older. In the meantime, _I_ ’ll appreciate all these photos I got of you freaking out.” She waved her phone back and forth, and, for a moment, Ichigo felt a surge of irritation, but the feeling was quickly overcome with his need to collect every baby picture possible.

“…You’ll send those to me, right?”

“Oh, don’t worry. They’re already in the family group chat.”

Kazui let out a squawk of disapproval, presumably at being talked over, and the siblings looked back at the baby. He turned a full-force pout on his aunt, who merely lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. Once more the center of attention, Kazui lifted himself into his crouch again, bouncing uncertainly, before straightening a bit more. Again, Ichigo’s hands snapped forward, poised to catch him. Again, Kazui grumbled gibberish and plopped down.

“What a tease.”

“Karin, please.”

Kazui released his iron grip on the upholstery, seemingly content enough with his progress to take a break. Ichigo patted a comforting hand on his back.

“Want a snack?”

“If you can find something edible,” Ichigo groaned as he laid back onto the carpet. He heard Karin’s answering snort and retreating footsteps toward the kitchen pantry. He let out another groan, this time of brief pain, as a sharp knee got him right in the stomach, and he reached down to help his son onto his chest. “Need a break, bud?” Kazui, evidently exhausted from his trying exercise, pressed against him with a sigh and almost immediately passed out.

Ichigo threw an arm behind his own head as a pillow, his other caressing his son’s downy hair in languid strokes. He wondered if Ichika was standing, yet. The twins were nearing the end of their eighth month now, and he knew – from his own parenting guides, not just Inoue’s strange baby book – that months eight-nine-ten were a mess of developmental half-way points. Almost every text assured him that each baby was on its own schedule, but he couldn’t help but imagine his daughter progressing right alongside Kazui. Was she already talking, or was she like Kazui, perfectly content with almost-words and drawn out baby-babble conversations?

Knowing Rukia, their little girl was probably ahead of the curve. Hell, she probably already had the entire division under her little thumb, ordering them around like her mother.

He tucked his chin to look down at his son and glided a knuckle over his baby-soft cheek. Kazui scrunched his nose in his sleep, and Ichigo gave into the temptation and lightly tapped to its little upturned tip. “We’ll try again after a nap, hmm?”

The baby gave a sleepy coo, and Ichigo let his eyes slip closed, comforted by the warm weight on his chest and his son’s slow, sweet breaths. 

* * *

Ichigo called a quick farewell to his sisters as they ran out the door, the girls already late for Karin’s soccer game, and brought the cold glasses out to Inoue in the living room. He passed her strange juice combination over, which she gratefully accepted, and took a few large gulps out of his own ice water, resisting the urge to sigh in satisfaction as the refreshment cooled him from the inside out. The summer heat was such that he dreaded the commute back and forth from school, even in the evenings, and he counted down the days until his brief summer vacation began.

“Is Dad–”

“Already left.”

“Need any help?” He asked and gestured to the pile of clean and dried clothes waiting to be folded on the couch.

“Please!” His friend responded, but she left it at that. Ichigo quirked an inquisitive brow; normally, she would immediately jump into some anecdote or pitch him some game show idea or some other chatter, but she seemed content to let the silence stew that night. He picked up a tiny tee-shirt and folded it deftly, placing it in the stack with Kazui’s other similarly tiny clothes.

As the mountain of clothes shrunk, the looming quiet grew, and Ichigo took another sip of water to wet his dry throat before coughing to break the strange tension.

“Are you alright, Inoue? You’ve been quiet all night.”

Her hands stopped their busywork, and she let the pair of pants she was holding fall back to the couch. She frowned down at the clothes, as if debating whether or not to confide in him. “Kurosaki-kun… you have to know how I feel about you.” She brought her eyes up to meet his, and he was taken aback to notice the determination shining in their depths.

Oh god. _What?!_

“All these years, that hasn’t changed! I have been waiting, hoping for my feelings to reach you… can you tell me, have they?” She reached out and grasped his hand, her desperate earnestness conveyed through her tight grip.

His mouth worked soundlessly until he finally managed a strangled, “What?” Of all things… a confession? How long had this been weighing on her mind?

“I’ve wanted so long to be by your side, Kurosaki-kun. Don’t you know? I want to support you any way I can! But what I feel for you is so much greater than friendship. These past few months, we’ve only grown so much closer, and I’ve finally found the courage… the hope that you could possibly feel the same?”

Inoue moved forward, but Ichigo broke their gaze and turned his head away. He felt his heart pounding anxiously, the sound a panicked thrum in his ears. “Inoue…”

 “I…” She searched his face for something, anything that could be in her favor, but his expression and posture showed no such thing. She sighed, resigned. “I know. But I just thought…” she trailed off, but her _I had to try_ still rang in the air between them. Reluctantly, she dropped his hand and stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.

Ichigo unconsciously echoed her pose. “I’m sorry. I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I’m not ready to move on.”

She chuckled deprecatingly. “Will you ever be?” His determined silence was her only reply. Inoue looked down. “I guess that’s not really fair of me to ask. It’s okay. I understand.” She sat heavily on the couch, one hand tangling uselessly in the unfolded clothes. “You and Kuchiki-san… it’s impossible to break that bond. I saw that a long time ago.”

Ichigo crouched in front of her to bring them level. The situation was awkward enough without him looming over her, he thought, and he knew he was far from handling it well. “I’ve never wanted to hurt you, Inoue. I’d… understand if you didn’t want to help with Kazui, anymore.”

“Of course, I’ll still help!” Her exclamation, as well as the agitation in her tone, made him jump and nearly topple over. She crossed her arms under her chest and frowned. “I wasn’t just doing this because I had feelings for you, Kurosaki-kun. How selfish do you think I am?”

“That’s not what I meant! Uhhh,” Ichigo stalled as he searched for the right words, “I just didn’t want you to feel obligated if you were uncomfortable…”

“Not everything is about you, Kurosaki-kun.” Inoue huffed, then relented, her features softening. She took in his slouched figure, endearing in his insecurity, and shook her head. “I’ll be all right. You don’t have to worry about me.” The young woman scowled suddenly and brought a finger up under Ichigo’s nose. She proclaimed, in a voice that he couldn’t tell was mocking or serious, “But I love that little boy, and if you try to take him away, so help me, even the Gotei Thirteen couldn’t protect you.”

“Um,” Ichigo, confused, looked down at the finger in his face. “Understood?”

“Good!” Her demeanor brightened suddenly, and Ichigo felt what must have been the equivalent of emotional whiplash, leaving him reeling. She stood and brushed past his still-crouching form. “Now, what would you like for dinner? I know there are some jellybeans and a few salmon filets around here, somewhere…”

Ichigo let himself face-plant into the sofa cushion in front of him, knocking a few socks to the floor. “Let’s order in.”

Invisible to him, Inoue pressed a steadying hand to the corridor wall. She took a moment to draw a deep breath, pushing down the hot tears gathering in her eyes, and stood tall again.

As unchanged as Inoue appeared in the coming weeks, Ichigo couldn’t shake himself from some sense that he’d wronged her somehow, and he knew he was only making all of it worse. The stilted conversations were his fault, the awkward friendly gestures were his fault, the tense and vibrating silence that filled shared rooms _were his fault_ , and he was very much aware, thank you. The only problem was that he had no idea how to _stop_.

Inoue, true to form, soldiered through his half-conversations and stiff, affectionate back-pats, until one day she simply said, “Kurosaki-kun, I’m not mad at you,” and continued picking up Kazui’s toys. Ichigo felt the majority of the weight lift from his shoulders and almost collapsed in relief.

What followed was something different, but still better. Their friendship had taken on a new shape; the secret affections had been addressed, and, with that, an indiscernible wall neither of them had recognized disappeared. He wondered, after, how much of their prior relationship had been colored by that unseen filter.

“Baaa,” Kazui scolded. The boy looked back at his father, who had spaced out in the middle of the living room, more reproachfully than a baby rightfully should.

“Sorry, buddy. You want to try again?” Kazui hummed thoughtfully and gripped the upholstery again, and, again, Ichigo braced himself, ready to catch his son.

And he stood up.

Like he had done it a hundred times before, no problem, Kazui pulled himself up entirely in one go. Ichigo shouted in surprise and scrambled from his phone in his back pocket.

“You did it! Look at you, you’re standing! Like a person!” Ichigo could feel his grin burning his cheeks with its stretch. He was snapping photos as fast as he could, capturing his son’s triumph to send to literally every one of his friends.

Kazui laughed at his father’s overreaction, bouncing in his glee as he clutched one fist in the couch and grasped toward his father with the other one. Ichigo leaned into his reach, raining kisses on his soft head and blowing a raspberry into his pudgy cheek for good measure. Kazui squealed and released the couch to grab onto Ichigo’s face with both hands.

Another half-muffled giggle drew his attention to the side, where he saw Inoue standing, taking pictures with her own phone. “Don’t send those to the group chat before me!” He called as she ran off to the clinic to show Isshin.

“Sorry, too late!” she sang back, and he wished he could shake his head without dislodging his son. He rolled his eyes instead, the fond smile still playing on his lips, and tickled Kazui to hear more of his excited laughter.

 _Yeah_ , he thought. _We can make this work._

* * *

The return from summer break seemed almost like a punishment and a blessing wrapped into one. On one hand, he had all the time in the world to spend with Kazui, and Ichigo treasured every single moment he could capture with his son. On the other, Kazui had quickly graduated from standing, to walking, to climbing furniture and _hurling himself off of it_. The child apparently inherited his mother’s need to give him constant heart attacks and then laugh about it.

He was definitely thankful that even if Inoue couldn’t catch his baby in time, her fairies certainly could. The shields that snapped into existence with a word had put him a bit more at ease, despite his continually climbing blood pressure. Kazui’s shrieks of joy at the little creatures did little to ease it.  

Ichigo’s phone buzzed insistently in his pocket, and, after glancing up to see is his professor noticed, he fished it out discretely and hid it in his lap. A new message lit up the screen.

**Inoue Orihime                                  19:47**

kazui-chan’s figured out running!! kind of scary but also super exciting!!! tsubaki-kun loves it, they’ve been playing chase all over the yard!!!

(ﾉ´ヮ´)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

                                    [read]

Sure enough, she had sent no fewer than ten videos, all with his son dashing headlong after the fairy. He had to hold back a few winces as he watched Kazui narrowly miss running straight into the fence or trip over nothing, only for Tsubaki to whip around and keep him from gross bodily harm.

**Kurosaki Ichigo                                19:49**

I’ll buy him a helmet on the way home.

                                    [read]

**Inoue Orihime                                  19:49**

(*≧▽≦)ﾉｼ))

                                    [read]

Did she think he was joking?! His kid was falling ass over teakettle _and his head was still soft_!

**Kurosaki Ichigo                                19:50**

I really am, this child is a hazard to himself! Be back a little later than usual

                                    [delivered]

He slid the phone back into his pocket and slumped into his hands wearily. So now, he had a walking, climbing, _base jumping_ , and _running_ hellion baby at home.

Good thing he lived at a clinic, he thought as he tuned back in to his lecture, because he was going to have a goddamn heart attack by the time he turned thirty.   

* * *

Ichigo stumbled down the stairs, groggy and sleep-soft from his afternoon nap. He knew he was cutting it a bit close today, but he still had more than enough time to make it to the bus before class. The weather outside certainly wasn’t helping any – the grey clouds had been hanging threateningly all day, and it seemed like the bottom had just fallen out of them. Fat raindrops ran down the windows, and all he wanted to do was turn right back around and crawl back into bed.

The living room was lit with a lamp and the soft blue glow of the television, haloing Inoue and Kazui where they sat in front of it on the floor. His son seemed completely enthralled with whatever was playing, and Inoue looked ready to crawl onto the couch and have a nap herself. She looked away from the screen and smiled softly at Ichigo’s rumpled appearance.

“Look who’s finally awake! I was about to go up soon to see if you could drag yourself to class.”

“I’m pretty sure I slept through three alarms. I’m not sure how much more luck you would’ve had, to be honest,” he grumbled. Inoue pointed at his hair with a muted giggle, and he hastily ran his hands through as a quick fix. “What have you two been up to?”

“We’ve been watching some videos about family, haven’t we, Kazui-chan? He really likes this series. You got really close to saying your first word, too!”

Ichigo perked up at that, suddenly more awake at the news. “Really?!” He rushed over to the pair, over-eager to hear his son’s attempts.

Inoue nodded brightly, scooping Kazui up as she stood from the floor. “Yep! We’ve been working on ‘Daddy.’ Right, Kazui-chan?” She braced the boy on a hip and used her other hand to point at Ichigo. “That’s your Daddy!”

 _“Your Daddy loves you and takes care of you!”_ the children’s program helpfully supplied in the background. A quick glance showed Ichigo brightly colored cartoon monsters gesturing wildly on screen. _“Sometimes he’s big and strong! Sometimes he’s small and smart! But Daddies protect you no matter what!”_

Kazui made a soft noise before grumbling and gazing up at his father. “Duuuda.”

“So close!” Inoue laughed and squeezed him tighter, and Ichigo smiled gently. “I swear, he’s just been watching this one video on repeat all afternoon. He’ll get it eventually!”

 _“Mommies protect you, too! They love you so much, and they always give the best hugs! Mommies are also the prettiest! Everyone thinks their Mommy is prettier, and they are all right! It’s part of the Mama Magic.”_ The show continued on about how some families have two moms or two dads, and Ichigo was absently impressed at the program for addressing it so early. Good for them.

“Mama.”

His eyes snapped back to his son, who, in turn, was staring intently at the woman holding him. Inoue’s smile fell, a stunned expression paralyzing her face. Kazui reached out a hand to pat her cheek, and, with a blinding smile of his own, announced again, “Mama!”

Ichigo’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

He had become too comfortable, had fallen into some idea that things were becoming _okay_ , but, as always, despair had stalked him, patiently biding its time for its chance to pounce. It had struck, and Ichigo felt like he had taken a sledgehammer to his chest. His son stared up at him, eyes shining proudly at his accomplishment, and all Ichigo could think about was how everything was so very _wrong_.

“I… have to catch my bus.”

Inoue looked at him in a panic, worried and confused, and set Kazui back on the carpet. The faraway roll of thunder was almost swallowed by the baby’s squawk of dismay. “Kurosaki-kun, wait, I–”

“It’s okay. We’ll… talk when I get back.”

He stepped out in the dark without his bookbag, numb to the rain seeping through his jacket, and walked toward the bus stop. This wasn’t new for him, this despondency.

Ichigo jolted out of his fog as he tripped over a jut of uneven sidewalk, but not soon enough to catch himself. He bit his tongue as his jaw met the concrete, and suddenly he was fifteen, cold from blood loss and rain and her screams.

Shaking, he pushed himself upright and continued hauling himself to his destination. He arrived just in time, _LOOP: NIGHT WEST_ scrolling above the windshield in bright LED. The driver gave him an odd look as he absently scanned his card and made his way to the back of the empty carriage but didn’t remark on his bloody and already purpling chin, instead closing the doors and continuing on her route. He fell into his usual seat with a wet smack and looked out the window at the street lamps lining the road, and the deep, puddling shadows behind them.

_“Do you think I’ll be good at it?” Rukia asked, cradled comfortably between his legs and draping her arms over his propped-up knees._

_“Good at what?” He pressed a kiss to the exposed nape of her neck and chuckled when she squirmed. “Ticklish,” he teased, and nipped her there instead._

_“Am not,” she retorted with a huff and an elbow to his ribcage. She hesitated for a beat. “Do you think I’ll be a good mother?” she clarified. Her normally strong voice seemed smaller, more vulnerable, but before he had a chance to interject, she continued, “I’ve never known what that would be like. I grew up on the street, and even when I got older I never really had any female figure like that in my life.”_

_“You’ll be great,” Ichigo reassured his lover, bringing his arms up to wrap around her still-small waist and pull her back against him. When he pressed against the folds of her shihakusho, he could feel the soft beginnings of her baby bump. “The fact that you’re already worried about it shows that.”_

_“You really think so?”_

_He pecked another playful kiss on her cheek and then dodged her swatting hand. “Mmhmm. You’re going to love this kid so much, and they’re gonna love you, too.”_

_“Well,_ you _were a momma’s boy. It’s probably genetic.” She settled comfortably against in place and leaned her ear to his chest, listening to the reassuring_ thump _of his heart._

_“Oh, absolutely. I even bet you that it’ll say ‘mama’ before anything else.”  
_

Ichigo leaned his forehead against the window and finally let the body-shaking sobs break loose. 

* * *

They say the first year is the hardest, but the following five don’t get any easier.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, y'all, sometimes things have to get worse before they get better OTL
> 
> As for THE NEWS: this fic is only PART TWO of what is going to be a FOUR PART SERIES! I spent a lot of time figuring out how I wanted to structure it, and I'm quite pleased with the direction I'm planning on going in, here. All I ask is your patience - I'm in my final year of my master's degree, so that does take priority. However! I do intend on writing in my downtime, still, so don't worry, I'll finish them out. 
> 
> Thank you all of y'all for your kind words and reactions on _another day, another destiny_ , without which I can assure you this part might not have been possible. I love to hear how my words have reached you, and every comment I receive spurs me forward with my next writing project! I can't wait to hear what y'all think of this one.
> 
> Until next time! ❤


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